Stormy Skies
by Doctor-Thirteen
Summary: Alternative story of Spottedleaf's death. Hinted SpottedxFire, with a dash of SandxFire. ONESHOT.


Leaf-fall seemed to sweep over the ThunderClan camp almost overnight, bringing cold winds, storms, and whitecough in its wake.

More and more warriors were seen resting in the medicine den, less and less of them in the forest; hunting or marking the borders. The clan was slowly growing weaker, and this would continue for another couple of moons, until Newleaf blessed them with plumper mice and warmer weather.

Spottedleaf worked rigorously, whether it was gathering herbs or treating the patients. The amount of warriors brought in was getting higher on daily basis. Most would feel ashamed while entering the medicine den, since they were aware of how bad the situation was, and how hard Spottedleaf had to work.

Yellowfang helped around as much as she could, but she was closer to moving to the elders' den than any other cat in the clan. Of course, there were other volunteers, such as Fireheart and Graystripe, but they were turned down. Spottedleaf didn't want them catching the greencough, and Bluestar wanted as many warriors as possible out in the woods; hunting to provide food for their ill clanmates.

Kits and elders were usually the first and only to fall, so Spottedleaf was unpleasantly surprised when more and more warriors started getting it. At first, the queens who just couldn't stay away from their kits, and later the grown warriors, too.

The fresh-kill pile grew weaker, as did the immune systems of the clan cats, for whom the medicine den was getting too small.

"You cannot go out there, Spottedleaf, not tonight." A dark gray she-cat took it upon herself to warn the younger medicine cat. Lighting flashed before them, bring her battle scars to light. She looked serious, intimidating, but the young dappled cat didn't flinch.

"I _have_ to, Yellowfang." She mewed, eyes blazing in the darkness of the den. "We're all out of catmint."

"We'll get in the morning, when the weather improves." Yellowfang retorted, flicking her tail impatiently, but her eyes showed worry.

Spottedleaf couldn't help but look behind herself as another lighting ripped trough the air. "For some, the morning might never come." She answered quietly, watching the lightning briefly light up the den. Young kits shut their eyes tightly, resisting the urge to call out to their mothers. All they could think about was how much they wanted to be back in the nursery, and most of them would attempt to escape the medicine den, if they weren't so weak and so scared of lightning.

Yellowfang looked pitifully at them and padded up to their nests, giving them a gentle lick. Kindness was not something she gave out easily, and it was just another sign of how desperate everyone was. "We could always send a warrior. We've had volunteers. Fireheart could…"

"No." The dappled she-cat cut her off, almost impatiently. "They wouldn't know what it looks like. And even if they did, finding it could be hard."

At any other time, Yellowfang would be frustrated with the young medicine cat for having the nerve to cut her off, but calmness was of the essence at those times. "Let me go, then. I fight as well as any warrior, and I'm pretty sure I still remember the looks of it."

Spottedleaf couldn't help but smile. As days dragged by, Yellowfang could hardly fight off ticks from her own fur, let alone a fox or another warrior lurking in those dark woods.

"I thank you for the offer." Spottedleaf mewed honestly. "But this is something I have to do myself."

Before Yellowfang could properly answer, Spottedleaf was up on her paws and running out into the pouring rain. Yellowfang sighed.

"_May StarClan guide your paws."_

Rain banged onto the yellow leafs of the tree, knocking them off of it, the wind sending them flying in all directions. An occasional lightning would light up Spottedleaf's path, but most of the time it seemed like she was just running around in the dark.

She was in no condition to do so, either. Days and days of taking care of the patients, and many sleepless nights took their toll on her. She felt disoriented as she hoped for another lightning. Her fur clung to her bony frame as she tapped trough the darkness of the forest, following the path more by using her heart than her eyes. Her vision was getting blurry. Pondering it was from the rain, she tried to blink it away, unsuccessfully.

Finally, she found what she was looking for. A small valley, sheltered from the rain by the density of leafy branches of an old oak tree. Spottedleaf gave a relieved sigh as she slid past the tree roots. There, right at that spot, catmint grew, untouched by the ungodly weather.

The ground was damp, but not as damp as everywhere else. The tree leafs made sure of that. The fact it was also sheltered from the wind gave it some warmth, much like the warmth of the medicine den, in which the pilled up cats did a great job of warming up the space. She basked in it for less than a minute, before deciding it was more important to get the catmint delivered to her clan.

Spottedleaf picked some up, very gingerly, and tried not to think her watering mouth. Catmint was, indeed, very tempting, but Spottedleaf was stronger than that. She leapt out into the rain again, looking around. The rain began soaking the precious herb as well, so Spottedleaf did her best to walk around the forest with her head tilted inwardly.

Finally, she raised her head up against the sky, listening to the rain tapping on the wide leafs. Another lightning pierced the sky, and noticed a raving. _Perfect, a shortcut_!  
>A small smile crept up on her as she headed toward it, running as fast as she could, the cold wind making her fur stand up.<p>

She began climbing it, as swiftly as she could, given she was weak and the wind kept pushing her in the other direction. Once she was at the top, she looked around and saw the camp in the distance. Her dull eyes lit up, and so did the sky, as another lightning crashed into the damp earth, somewhere in the distance.

Wincing slightly, she took another few steps forward, but had seriously misjudged the length of the ravine top. Her front paws were left hanging in the air, above some seriously sharp rocks, and her hind legs fought to keep her back. She tried scrambling up again, and her front paws finally rested on the edge of the ravine again.

Her relief, however, was short-lived… 

The next morning, when everything calmed down, Firestar was rudely awoken by Yellowfang. He had a strange dream featuring Spottedleaf, where she, more beautiful and alive than ever, simply bid him goodbye.

"Get up!" She hissed, perhaps more roughly than she intended to.

"All right, all right." Fireheart scrambled up to his paws. Instinctively, he glanced at the nest beside him, expecting to find Graystripe in it, but the other warrior was nowhere to be found. His gaze returned to Yellowfang's face. "Where is Graystripe? Has something happened to him?" Panic flooded the ginger warrior's voice.

"No. But something might have happened to Spottedleaf." Yellowfang hissed urgently, jumping out of the den. "Now hurry up!"

But Fireheart couldn't. He froze, staring at the entrance of the den in shock.  
>The shock was short-lived, however, as he realized Spottedleaf might need some help, and he needed to be up to the task. He ran outside, spotting Yellowfang again. She sat by Bluestar, whose damp fur was spiked up. Fireheart felt something bad was happening, so he approached with caution.<p>

"You called for me?" He mewed to Bluestar, forgetting to dip his head in greeting.

Bluestar overlooked that, and she just nodded sharply in return. It seemed as though she had difficulty speaking, and Fireheart only hoped it wasn't because she caught whitecough too. She didn't exactly have much lives left.

"Where's Graystripe?" He dared ask, getting a stern glance from Yellowfang.

"On a patrol. As are all of our healthy warriors at the moment." Bluestar said.

"Last night, Spottedleaf went to fetch some catmint and never came back." Yellowfang quickly explained. "We need you to look, too, although we hope she just found some shelter and decided to spend the night in it."

But everyone knew that wasn't true. Spottedleaf had been so incredibly determinated to get the herb before the morning comes; she wouldn't just stop her search for sleep's sake.

"Check the eastern part of the territory. No one's currently looking there." Bluestar instructed him, her tail flicking. "May StarClan light your path."

Fireheart had been padding trough the forest the entire day, sniffing the air, and the ground for Spottedleaf. It was hopeless, but he refused to give up until he found her. The storm washed away most of the soil that carried that sweet smell of herbs that was unmistakably hers. His nose wasn't working so well, either, as it was affected by the leaf-fall cold wind.

Fallen leafs crunched under his paws. The chirp of the birds was nowhere to be heard, almost as if they, too, gave into the search. Night slowly crept up on the warrior, and soon it was almost impossible to see. He was just thinking of giving up and getting back to the camp, where he hoped to find Spottedleaf, safe and sound, found by another patrol, when he noticed something that looked like a bundle of fallen leaves by the ravine.

He padded closer, just as the rain started falling again. Blinking, he tried to clear his vision. The first lightning of the evening helped him do it. He froze, recognizing the shape. It weren't leaves, it was a cat! Covered in mud, branches, and whatnot, but still a very real cat. Fireheart was standing in a pool of blood without even noticing it. He traced the blood back to the cat.

He raised his paw to clean the dirt away from it's face, hoping, wishing desperately it wasn't who he thought it was. He uncovered two half-closed amber eyes that seemed to stare right back at him. They were dull and lifeless. The fur was burned almost entirely. With a pang of sadness, he realized it was Spottedleaf. _His_ Spottedleaf. Desperately, he cleaned the rest of the dirt away, uncovering more and more of her broken body. She was still clutching the catmint in her jaws. She most likely died when the lightning struck the ravine she was on and made the edge collapse. And even if the edge was stronger, the electricity would burn her alive. Fireheart found himself hoping her death was quick.

He closed his eyes and dug his claws into the ground. "No! NO!" He screamed desperately into the air, before crashing by the she-cat's side and licking her. "Come on, come on, wake up. Spottedleaf. Spottedleaf, this is no time for games. Come on. It's morning, Spottedleaf. Wake up!" Fireheart pleaded and pleaded, but got no response from the cold body.

Blinking away tears that just wouldn't stop flowing, he took the catmint from her jaws, knowing that's what she would have wanted. She wouldn't die in vain. Fireheart turned around and started going back to camp, without any will. His movements seemed almost forced, as the camp was not where she wished to be right now. His place was by Spottedleaf – the she-cat he'd loved all along. Pain and loss clawed at his belly as he entered the camp.

Yellowfang, seemingly disturbed, ran up to him. "Fireheart, are you all right? Did you find her?"

Graystripe met his best friend's gaze, and knew immediately what was wrong. He ran up to him and nuzzled his fur. Sandpaw and Dustpaw padded out of their den, followed by Bluestar. The two apprentices finally agreed to forget their differences, not to mook Fireheart, who was shaken more than anyone.

"She's dead." He meowed, quietly.

The words echoed in everyone's ears. 

"_Dead_?" Cried out Sandpaw, padding closer to Fireheart and pressing her muzzle to his fur.

"She _can't _be!" Dustpaw simply couldn't believe it. His jaw hung in shock.

"Are you sure?" Yellowfang asked, her voice trembling ever so slightly. Everyone hoped he misjudged it.

Bluestar said nothing. Instead, she drifted away from the group, knowing deep down in her heart Fireheart was right.

"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the HighRock!" Her voice rang trough the sleeping camp, and cats started peering out of their dens. Even the patients from the medicine den started slowly limping outside, waiting to hear the news.

_**As Spottedleaf predicted, there were more losses over the night, but no cat was as mourned as the young medicine cat, who died so that her clanmates could live... **_


End file.
